Sword for a Training
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Aaron, Miriah
Date Posted: 8th December 2020
Characters: Brennault, J'ackt
Description: Brennault makes a deal with J'ackt for some training
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 3 of Turn 10
"No. Widen your stance." J'ackt barked at the young Candidate who
faced off with him, holding a practice sword with obvious awkwardness.
J'ackt approached and gripped the young man's hand over the hilt.
"You're holding it like a sharding club. Light, but firm. It's an
extension of your arm and you have to treat it like it's a part of
you." He quickly rapped the young man's practice sword with his own
and watched it fall to the ground with a frown. "See? Does your arm
fall off when I hit it? No. Stop being fecking afraid of the sharding
thing. Pick that back up and try again."
Brennault stopped mid-stride as he heard the smack of wood on wood and
turned to see the two holding practice swords.
Well. One holding and the other picking his up from the ground.
Brennault smiled from ear to ear, glad that he was already finished
with his deliveries for the day. He walked close enough to watch and
sat down.
J'ackt barely glanced up at the new observer, his focus on the young
boy in front of him. Once the practice sword was picked up, J'ackt
eyed his feet, then gave the boy a light shove on the shoulder. The
boy stumbled and J'ackt caught him. "Stance. One foot forward, one
foot behind like I told you." He nudged the back foot into place with
a light kick. "There." He forcibly turned the boy's body slightly
sideways and double checked with another light shove. This time the
boy didn't move as easily. "See?" He looked over at the waiting
partner. "Go through the forms slowly. Either one of you drop your
swords again and you'll feel mine on your back." J'ackt exhaled and
moved away to stand near the fence.
Brennault took the opportunity to stand and join J'ackt. He would much
rather be able to get a few words in than just watch if he could.
"How much are the lessons?" he asked curiously.
J'ackt watched the pair slowly go through their forms and glanced at
Brennault. "If you're a Candidate or a Weyrling, nothing. Shaffit,
Retin, stance!" He watched as the other young man quickly corrected
himself. "If you're not, it's a half mark per candlemark of my time.
Or you can go with Cabrick." He gestured to the older man leading
young boys in grappling. "He teaches as well and uses different
methods."
"Tss," Brennault hissed. That was a steep price. But perhaps it could
be worth it for one lesson. At least, after one lesson, he would have
a pretty good idea of how interested he really was in continuing.
"Well, I can do one hour. And then maybe I'll ask Cabrick about his
rates after that."
"I'm better than Cabrick." J'ackt's statement was direct and without
ego. It was simply the truth. "He's good for beginners though." He
finally glanced over at the other man. "You live here?"
"Yes, sir, for now." Brennault was well aware of the concept of
getting what one paid for. But that still did not mean he had the
money to afford more regular lessons.
"If I decide I want to keep up the lessons, I'll come back as often as
I've got the marks for it."
"Faranth, don't call me sir. It's J'ackt." J'ackt grimaced. "If you
have anything to trade, I'm up for ideas. Don't really spend a lot of
marks anyway."
"J'ackt," Brennault corrected himself. "I'm Brennault, a runner. I can
carry letters or packages for you," he said. "But that's probably not
a service in high demand from a man who can fly anywhere by the count
of five. My father is the stationmaster for the waystation nearest the
weyr as you head west. He can usually get his hands on some rarer
things I might talk him into giving me an advance on. Is there
anything you like but don't come by on the regular?"
"Don't have anyone to send letters to." J'ackt continued to watch the
two young men, his attention split. He drummed his fingers over his
own practice sword as he considered the other offer. "Need a good
sword. All I have is a old guard sword that doesn't hold an edge worth
a shaffing damn."
Brennault nodded and stroked his chin as he considered whether his
father would be able to requisition a sword.
But then. Brennault remembered that he happened to have saved the life
of a very talented smith once. And it had been far too long since he
had seen Lorican, anyway. He smiled.
"I think I have an idea on how to make that happen," he said.
J'ackt finally looked over at Brennault, his interest peaked. He knew
the value of a good sword. "You get me a good sword with excellent
steel and balance, you'll get six months of training."
"Deal," said Brennault. He reached out his hand to shake. Of course,
this meant he was committed to the training, even if it was not fun.
It might never come in handy, but it was a goal. Almost a dare,
really. And Brennault loved dares.
J'ackt put out his hand and sealed the deal. "Get the sword first,
bring it and we'll go from there."
"Then I'll see you when I've got a sword," said Brennault, already
eager to get started.
Last updated on the January 13th 2021